If Love is a Curse Dispelling Darkness…

Long after Ambrillia left, I keep roaming through my mansion. My thoughts circle around the recent events, no matter how many times I chase them away.

    Whenever she’s close, I can’t help but be spellbound by the marquessa. Her scent, her smile,.. no. It’s more than that. It’s about the way she makes me forget everything else. About the way she brings that soothing warmth to my chest.

    Am I now bound to think of her whenever she’s not by my side? That’s ridiculous… I only saw her twice. Even if it isn’t a mere lure crafted to defeat me, a trap of a mighty enemy pulling the strings of my demise in the shadows…

    I don’t know what to do with these feelings.

    My steps, as random as they are, end up leading me in front of a certain painting. Stopping in front of the giant golden frame, I raise my eyes to stare at it.

    Long crimson hair akin to mine, yet infinitely more elegant. Free from any ties, strands cascade over his shoulder, down along his raven coat.

    At this hour, only silence brushes the empty corridors as I contemplate the painting of my father for a while.

“…”

    Reaching out my hand, my gloved fingers trace absent-mindedly the patterns carved along the frame, lacking the intricacy I wish they had. Only when I remove my hand do I notice the thin grey particles over my fingertips.

“How many times did I tell them to dust it regularly?” I frown, a sparkle of anger resurfacing. “Seems like I’ll have to fire another servant tomorrow for them to learn the lesson.”

    Gathering my fingers into a fist, I pour all my resolve into this evil flesh of mine.

“How kind of you to give him a second chance.”

    Ambrillia’s words echo in my mind like a potent curse.

    I can’t let this go any further. Me, putting aside the daily pleasure of causing others’ misfortune? Abandoning my glorious place on the dark side?

    The mistake was mine to see her again, but this time… this time was the last one! I know what remains for me to do.

“My lord?” Keillweist’s voice takes me by surprise, making me loosen my fist.

    Turning away from the painting, I face him with a resolute expression.

“You’re still awake… What is it, Keillweist?”

“I’m the first one surprised to see you awake, my lord.” He pauses, glancing past me at the painting. Briefly. “…The servants are worried by your behaviour. They told me you’ve been wandering back and forth through the mansion’s corridors with a ghostly look. The maids even think the devil finally claimed your soul.”

    A dry chuckle.

“Ohh, they hope.” I reply. “I, Rowan Luphor, still have decades of misfits to accomplish before allowing the devil to even lay a finger on my grim soul. That, even if I know how much he must crave it.”

“So be it, my lord.” My butler approves with a nod, solemn.

    With these words, I turn away, retreating to my bedroom for the rest of the night.

    I am the evil duke, I can’t let her sway me.

༻❦︎༺

    Tickled by the wind, wreaths of flowers move according to its commanding whispers. A scarecrow in bleached overalls stayed outside for too long, now forgotten in a sea of orange petals, a bunch of them having claimed dominance over his straw hat.

    Cheek leant against the back of my hand, I observe the fields beyond the carriage window.

“Please, Duke Luphor, we beg you to place our lands under your protection…”

    The servants of the neighbouring estate sent me an invitation after the death of the noble ruling them. An hour ago, I was still there, hearing their pleas for my protection.

“The lord’s banshee is gone… without her protection, the monsters could attack us at any time!”

    Wise of them to call me right after their landlord died, I have to say. Being close on one side to a vast forest and to Oneixium on another, they actually had no better choice. They could do nothing and wait to see if the monsters would get them first, or if I would take advantage of the situation beforehand. But by submitting to my grand evilness first, they ensured their survival with a more… diplomatic outcome.

    After all, banshees are grim fairies devoted only to noble families. Their power is such that more than often the nobles ask them to ensure their lands’ protection. So do I. They repel monsters more efficiently than any weapons.

    Thoughtful, I observe immaculate underwear hanging on a rope close to the road, its frills swayed by-

“What…”

    With a frown, I stare at the indecent sight. How shameless should one be to let such… such… things hang before the eye of the traveller?!

“Coachman!! Coachman, stop right now!”

    This can’t be. I won’t let this happen on my lands.

    The moment the carriage comes to a stop with a reluctant neigh of the horses, I step outside, aiming straight for the peasants’ cottage.

    Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

    Pouring my wrath into my fist, I let the door be the first victim of my outrage until someone finally turns the handle.

“Yes? Who is it?” An old woman glances up at me, paling the moment she recognises me.

    Of course, even if she never saw me for herself before, my rich attire and crimson hair leave no doubt as for my lineage.

“…Duke Luphor?” Her voice shrinks, a male version of her waddling behind, reaching her side.

“So you’re the ones living on this field.” I raise my chin to the perfect angle, staring down at them. “Have you no shame? Letting your underwear hang so close to the road? Where any traveller would see them?”

“T-the…. I’m sorry my lord.” The old woman replies, her other half only physically standing next to her. “Our intent was never to offend you.”

“Offend? You soiled my eyes. Do you think your life is worth enough to repay me for such a crime?” I taunt.

“Please… No… We just… We wanted them to dry the sooner they could. It’s for the traveller that came to our humble house. She’s here for a few days… to learn about our flowers and acquire some seeds and…” The old woman stumbles over her words, trembling like a leaf. A result of her age or of her fright? I would say both. “We’re already not worthy of such a lady’s presence.”

    I avert my gaze.

“A traveller here for a few days… A lady… Come to think of it, these frills were of a finer quality than what a peasant would ever get. Though…”

    A wild thought crosses my mind.

“That’s impossible, right?”

“Duke Luphor?” The delicate voice makes me freeze. “What a surprise to see you here.”

    Risking a glance, for my evilness’ sake I regret not being blind the moment I recognise the marquessa’s features. She reaches out her hand to her lips, barely covering her faint yet slightly amused smile. I can tell. She is. Amused.

“I’m confused,” she isn’t, “you weren’t supposed to see this so soon.”

    I can feel a rusty scent invading my nostrils as I press the back of my gloved hand to my nose, turning away to flee.

༻❦︎༺

    Once in town, I stop for a while at the tailor’s place to let him take my measure. He adjusts his notes, scribbling over past ones in the corner of a page filled with sketches. With that spark of youthfulness still in the eye, well, he kept what comes along with it. I swear sometimes the way he glances at me matches the intensity of a demon lurking at its prey.

“Will it be ready for the next new moon?” I ask, leaning my head back.

“It will, no worries Duke Luphor. I’ll even have time to add some more details…”

“Please, no excessive fantasies.”

“It will be perfect.” The tailor replies, earning him a raised eyebrow. “By the way, I wondered… I wondered if you’d agree to try on one of my creations…”

    As he speaks, the tailor reaches for said creation, a fabric adorned with-

“It’s a dress.” I note, matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but I thought that-”

“Alberto,” I cut him short. “Think again and you’ll be the one to wear it and go dance in the forest. The monsters will surely appreciate a little treat.”

    Done with him for today, I eagerly leave the tailor shop.

    Despite being the messy type, his creations are always of quality. An eccentric who even does, for a handful of selected garments, the dyeing of the fabrics himself. That’s mostly why I keep coming here. That, and the fact I have known him for more than a decade.

    The moment I step out of the shop, I hear someone humming. As I turn a curious eye towards the origin of the voice, I catch sight of a lady walking under an umbrella. Despite her head being mostly hidden by the latter’s green frills, I recognise her smile at once. The edges of her amber hair…

    Gasp.

“She’s in town?! Oh no… No… Not again!!”

    Without further ado, I proceed to run away, disappearing at the corner of the street before getting noticed by the Marquessa Ambrillia.

    Once confident that I avoided the threat that this woman is, I resume my ride through the town, shaking my head at the distraction.

“I mustn’t, I mustn’t! I have to keep focused. I came to town to bathe in the inhabitants’ hatred directed at me.”

    To my greatest pleasure, walking in the street alone earns me a more than honourable amount of worried glances and glares turning into worried glances the moment I return the favour. Ohh, how they hurriedly turn away.

    Refreshing.

    Unfortunately, that moment of bliss doesn’t last as, before I get the time to recover, I spot her again. Leant over a merchant’s products, the marquessa notices me and waves… though I step back and run away in a blink of an eye.

    How many times does it happen again afterwards? Was this town always that small?? Every time I spot an umbrella, I shiver. Is it just my mind playing tricks? My heart races not because of the sight of her gracious silhouette but because of the distance my feet covered in the afternoon. Will she have no rest before I fall panting in front of her?

    Finally, I come to a pause in front of a sweet shop.

    A sweet shop, huhh?

    Glancing at the name of the place, I realise with a satisfied grin that it’s one of the places I intended to visit today.

“Ohh, what a pleasant sight.” My panting subsiding, a smirk fiercely replaces it. “If that isn’t one of the shops which haven’t paid the levy in due time.”

    Adjusting my golden ruffle, I step in.